How We Became
by BurntBreadAndShinyPearls
Summary: "Every Sunday, we both sit on the hill that overlooks our town. Never speaking a word to each other. We are here for our own reasons and silence is what I'm looking for. It's the way we are. And I can't understand why Peeta Mellark would try to mess that up with words." The months that follow after Peeta finally talks to Katniss. One-shot. Modern Day AU.


_November_

The trail is silent, through the trees and bare bushes I can only hear the faint sound of wind whistling through the branches as the sun goes down. I reach the clearing at the top of the hill and I'm not surprised to see another figure already hunched over at one of the benches.

I take my own respective bench a few feet away from his. The benches are old and worn, the wood rotting and splinters on exposed skin are promised. Ice has taken over the rotting planks, though. Nobody comes up this path anymore. It's forgotten and hidden away by the weedy trial in the summer, and the snow banks and darkness in the winter.

Out of the corner of my eye, I examine him. He's looking thoughtfully out at the orange glow that paints our town. I'm not sure when he first started coming up here, but about June, when the end of our Junior year was near, he was up here when I came. And then the next Sunday rolled around, and he was back. And so was I.

And now it feels normal. It's routine.

I close my eyes and clear my mind. I cleanse myself of worry over the future. I don't need to worry. At least, that's what I try to tell myself. But then I remember things like money and graduation and university and leaving Prim for said university...

My eyes spring open and I take in the sunset, hoping it will wash over my nerves and thoughts.

"That's my favourite colour."

I freeze. I've heard his voice before, plenty. And I'd rather not admit that I can distinguish his voice in a crowd of people. Slowly, I look over at him. It feels like the first I'm really seeing him.

"What's yours?" He asks, lifting his head to met my gaze. His blue eyes were blindingly beautiful. And they shined brighter than the freshly fallen snow that coated the ground.

Every Sunday, we both sit on this hill that overlooks our town. Never speaking a word to each other. We're here for our own reasons and silence is what I'm looking for. It's the way we are. And I can't understand why Peeta Mellark would try mess that up with words.

I only stare at him in response.

I guess he understands that I don't plan on answering and his face falls into a sheepish look. "Sorry. I just thought that...maybe after five months of just sitting here in silence-"

"I come here for silence," I say sharply.

"Oh," he says. "Okay."

I try not to fixate on the disappointment in his voice.

The next forty minutes is spent in unusual heavy silence, and I stand up to leave when the cold winds starts to become too much. Peeta doesn't flinch when I begin to walk away. He stares straight ahead, even though the sky is now dark and there isn't anything to look at. His cheeks and nose are red, splotches of white are noticeable. I want to tell him that he'll get frostbite if he stays out longer, but I don't.

And I walk down the icy trail.

And now Peeta Mellark probably has frostbite.

* * *

><p>Two Sundays pass, and Peeta hasn't tried talking again since. Now that he broke our silence, I feel the need to answer his question. It's been gnawing away at me. At night, when sleep doesn't come, I replay his voice in my head. It was soft and hopeful. And during the day at school, my eyes seek him out more than once.<p>

"Green," I find myself saying. He turns on his own bench, raising an eyebrow at me. "Green is my favourite colour."

A small, delicate smile lights up his face while his eyes close briefly. "What kind of green?"

"Hunter green," I reply easily, ducking my head.

"That's nice," he says back, nodding once.

"You should start wearing a scarf if you plan on staying out here for a long time," I blurt out, my shoulders go rigid when his eyes meet mine again. "-you know, frostbite."

Peeta smiles sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't think I actually own a scarf, if I'm being honest."

I frown, biting back an amused smile. Who doesn't own a scarf in Twelve? Especially with the bitter cold Winter months.

"That's...odd."

"Yeah, I know." His smile turns into one that's playful. I like it. "Hey- I heard that you got a volleyball scholarship for University of Panem. Congratulations," he says.

I look down. I didn't want it to be broadcasted, but the coach at U of Panem contacted Coach Abernathy, saying they already had a scholarship waiting for me. And Abernathy decided to make some big deal out of it, announcing it to the whole school last week.

But I'm also not the only one with a scholarship.

"There's also been talk that U of Panem granted you a scholarship if you chose their hockey team."

I lift my head, looking over at Peeta to gauge his reaction. He smiles, rubbing his neck with his gloved hand. "I accepted their offer two days ago. So, I guess we'll be heading to the same place next fall."

"Seems so," I say.

Silence washes over us as the evening turns to night, darkness taking over the sky. Our only source of light is from the town below us. Peeta breathes out, then I hear him stand.

"It was nice talking to you, Katniss," he says softly as he walks by, and I catch his shy smile just as he turns his head to focus on the icy ground beneath his feet.

I don't say it out loud, but it was nice talking to him, too.

* * *

><p>I'm standing in line at the cafeteria, the line is extra long because it's Friday, when I feel a tap on my shoulder. And when I turn, Peeta greets me with a smile.<p>

"Hey."

"Oh- hi." I grab one of the pre-made salads and a bottle of water when we finally reach the food counter. I hand the lady behind the counter a five dollar bill, leaving her with the extra change.

Peeta hurriedly pays for his meal, before he says my name. "-would you like to sit with me?"

My stomach clenches, but in a sort of pleasant way. I look over my shoulder, finding Madge and the rest of the girls I play volleyball and basketball with giving me looks. Most of them smirk, though I sense jealousy with a few of them.

"Unless you have-"

"Okay," I interrupt, not allowing myself to change my mind. "Sure."

His face lights up and nothing has ever looked so hopeful. He smiles brightly and laughs a little. "Okay, cool! Uh- I usually sit over there-" he points to a table near mine, with the hockey guys and a few girls. "-but, I mean, we can always sit by ourselves. Cato and the guys are..._yeah._"

I nod and we find an empty table by the windows. "I have a question," Peeta says as we begin eating, as if we've been talking for ages.

"What?"

"When you sit out on that hill...do you ever find the answers you're looking for?"

I smile, my lips curling up at the corners just a little bit. It's enough to pass for a smile.

"No," I say, picking at the label on my bottle of water. "Do you?"

"Nope. But it does make me feel like my questions may have answers some day."

I do chance a glance up at him and I kind of regret it when I realize his eyes are already on me, making my cheeks feel hot. He smiles and I bite my lip because I'm not sure what to do. Because I know what he means. Because our little Sundays on the hill make me feel like one day I'll understand.

So, I opt for a nod instead and remain quiet. I don't think Peeta minds, or he understands why I stay quiet, so he doesn't press the conversation further. We finish our lunches in silence, and it isn't until the bell rings when he speaks again.

"This was nice, Katniss. So...I'll see you Sunday?"

I grab my bag, standing up from my seat. His smile is so nice.

"Of course," I say and he nods back, his smile stretching wider – if that's possible. He lifts his hand in a shy wave and I wave back with a quick flick of my hand. "See you, Peeta."

Sitting through the last periods of the day proves to be boring. But every so often I'd find my thoughts drifting to Peeta. And when the final bell rings to end the school day, I leave through the front doors with a small smile on my face.

* * *

><p><em>December<em>

It's been a month since Peeta broke our silence. Sometimes, usually once during the week, we sit together at lunch. We don't talk much during that hour, but we do homework and occasionally help the other with questions we're stuck on.

Also, in one month the weather has gotten worse. The nights are biting with cold and I find it almost unbearable to sit out on that hill for more than ten minutes on Sundays.

But Peeta makes it just a little more bearable and I don't know why.

He's sitting on his own bench, like usual, but he's looking over at me. With a blue beanie pulled over his head and a black scarf – one that he finally bought – is around his neck and jaw. He pulls the scarf down from his face a little, revealing his bright red lips from the cold.

"I have a question."

"Another one?" I ask. Peeta always has a question to ask. Whether it be about homework, or my weekend, or life.

He grins in return. "Yes. Just let me ask you, okay?"

"Okay," I echo, then I tuck my face behind my scarf again.

"Next week is Winter Formal...and I was wondering if you'd like to be my date?" His eyes flicker around, but they always end up resting on mine.

I pull my scarf back down as I process what he just asked. It doesn't make me uncomfortable; just surprised.

"Winter Formal? With you?" I ask, my breath coming out in a white puff. It's a stark contrast to the dark night. We're usually never out this late, but I guess neither of us felt inclined to leave yet. And now I understand that maybe Peeta's been waiting to ask this.

"Yeah..."

"Wouldn't that be a cliche! The hockey star and the volleyball star. Two athletes destined-"

"Katniss," he says, interrupting me with a sigh. "I didn't ask so you could mock me. I just wanted to go with you, is all."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Why me? Why not Delly? Or Glimmer?"

"Why do you think I asked you, Katniss?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. "Certainly not because you're beautiful- oh no. Not because you're intelligent and talented. _Nope. _Not because I _like _you."

He's looking at me like I'm crazy now.

And I think it over for a second. Peeta's handsome. I'd even go as far as to call him hot. And he's so nice. And funny. And smart. But I can't seem too eager to go with him, can I? I mean, we only started talking just a month ago. What if I come off as desperate for accepting so fast?

Plus, I do have a dress for the Winter Formal. And it'd be a shame if that dress didn't have a hot boy and a matching tie to go with it. Right?

"If you score me a goal on Friday at the Winter Classic game against District Eleven." I nod once, just to confirm what I said. "Then I'll go with you."

Peeta watches me, his lip twitches and I can tell that he wants to smile, but he manages to hold it back. "You'll be at the game?"

"Well, if you're going to score I want to see it myself."

At this, Peeta laughs. He smiles, and I find myself biting one back again.

"Fair enough. You have to stick around after the game, though, okay?"

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Okay."

"I think we should get going, though. We've been out here way too long and I can't feel my toes anymore." Peeta stands up slowly and he stuffs his hands in his pockets. "Katniss, you better be following me. You're not staying out here any longer."

I stand as well and grin. "I'm leaving, don't worry."

Peeta leads the way down the trail, his steps are careful and slow. I follow cautiously so I don't slip. We reach the street in a few minutes and Peeta breathes in deeply.

"Hey...uh-" he turns to me, running his teeth over his bottom lip. "Do you want to go get hot chocolate? To warm up?"

I suspect it isn't just to warm up, but I don't say that. I shrug, then nod and he smiles _again. _I swear Peeta Mellark never stops smiling. We begin walking down the road. Light snowflakes fall and it's so cliche, but it's also really nice.

It's a nice feeling, being out here with Peeta. It's picturesque.

"Sae's is open late on Sundays," he says, pointing to the restaurant. We pick up our pace a little, and we make it into Sae's with good time. The warmth is almost a shock to my system. "It's so warm in here I think my skin's burning."

I snort as we walk over to the counter and order two hot chocolates. Peeta tries to pay for mine, but then Sae comes over and tells us it's on the house. Peeta leaves a generous tip in the tipping jar anyways, and I do, too, because he won't be the only one to contribute money.

We shrug off our coats and scarves, hanging them over the backs of our chairs before we sit down. My hands wrap around the mug greedily, the heat of the drink is a shock to my frozen hands.

"I've got a question," I say this time.

Peeta smirks. "Shoot."

"Are those stories about you true? You know, the ones about you and other girls. The girls that hang on your every word, the ones who drool over you in the halls."

His smirk drops, but his gaze on me doesn't. Instead of brushing it off, he nods. And I'm not sure why, but I feel my face fall and my stomach twists.

"They are. Well, I mean, not _every _story. Some are true. If I'm being honest, I've only kissed four girls. I went on a few dates with each of them, kissed them goodnight, and I never felt that spark, so I never tried to make it into something serious." He shrugs a little. "But the truth always gets twisted. After going to the movies with Clove last year, she bragged and told everyone we went to third base. Apparently I have the hands of a God. Not to mention my mouth..."

I look down at his hands, and he laughs under his breath. My cheeks burn when I look up to find him looking at me expectantly, a smirk on his pretty face. I don't know what my cheeks burn more from; the fact that I looked at his hands, or the fact that I noticed how strong and smooth they looked.

"So..." I clear my throat, hoping to clear my embarrassment as well. "You say you like me, but how do you know that spark will be there? What if this is for nothing?"

Peeta leans back in his chair, looking over at the plastic Christmas tree in the corner, the colourful lights flashing. He looks back to me, his mouth curling up into a bashful grin. "Because that spark has been there since the day I met you. When our eyes meet, I can feel it."

"So why did you date other girls?"

"I never thought I had a chance with you."

I take a sip of my drink, the rich liquid slides down my throat as I watch Peeta. And I don't know why, but I begin to speak. "Everyone deserves a chance."

"I guess Friday will be the deciding day."

"I guess so," I reply. "Be on your best game."

"For you?" He asks, then smiles. "Always."

* * *

><p>The stands are loud with cheers and chants. I'm dressed in my District Twelve Athletics hoodie, and Madge is dressed in hers, too. Like almost half of the student body, we skipped out on our last period classes and took her car on the three hour drive out to the rival town, District Eleven.<p>

We got out here at five o'clock and burned time by going to grab some dinner at a restaurant. Now its six o'clock and the puck just dropped, and my eyes already seek out number sixteen. He wins the face-off and I feel a swell of pride in me.

Why?

"First you eat lunch with him, now you come to his games...what's up with you and Mellark, Kat?"

My cheeks are probably red, but I hope she'll think it's from the chilliness in the arena. But Madge knows me and I know Madge, and we both know what my red cheeks are really from.

"Nothing...okay-" I sigh when she gives me a look. "I'll tell you later, though. Okay?"

"I'm holding you to it," she says, then turns back to the game, just in time to see Peeta snipe at Eleven's goalie, but the gloved hand easily catches it before it can soar into the net.

"_Next time, Peeta!"_

On the other side of the rink, where the fans of Eleven reside, cheers erupt. I frown because the goalie's save wasn't that amazing. It was average, normal. But I guess you cheer for anything, really.

The first period is mediocre as it progresses. I don't pay much attention to the other players, only Peeta. He gets a two-minute penalty for slashing. Coach Brutus doesn't look happy, especially with three minutes left in the period and now Eleven has an advantage with the power play.

I see Cato skate up next to Peeta as he makes his way to the penalty box, and Cato must say something to irritate Peeta, because his head shakes and he pushes him away with his stick. Peeta slams the box door and slumps down on the bench.

I feel bad for him. He seems really upset. And I want to tell him it's okay that he got a penalty, but I can't.

With barely any time left, the odds are not in Twelve's favour. I see it happen before it actually does. Our goalie, Marvel, is pitted against the three forwards. Only Finnick Odair races back to help defend him, while the actual defensemen drag their butts. Finnick, as good as he is, gets tricked into going right and the second forward slips around behind him and gets the puck, scooping it into the net.

I see Peeta bang his stick against the glass in the penalty box.

Another face-off at centre happens, Finnick wins it. Peeta jumps out of the box and joins him on the ice. Together, like a tag-team duo, they glide up the ice. In perfect synchronicity, they switch positions and Peeta goes for the net as Finnick passes him the puck through a defensemen's legs.

Peeta receives the puck with ease.

I watch him get ready, winding up, to take the shot. _This is it. _And I know he'll get this. I hope he does, too, because I wouldn't mind being his Winter Formal date.

But at the last second, with the clock counting down the ten seconds as the crowd chants, Peeta tips the puck back to Finnick, who swoops in on the goalie's blindside, tapping it in.

Madge cheers loudly, everyone does. I do, too. Except I wish Peeta got that goal.

It's the third and final period. Cato scored a goal in the second period, making the score _2-1 _for Twelve. And it hasn't changed since. Peeta's been playing hard. And really well. Other than his slashing penalty earlier, he's been playing clean.

He does get shoved by a player from Eleven after the whistle blows, and Peeta pushes him back. I can see them calling each other out. When the player pushes him again, Peeta shakes his head and backs off.

I smirk.

Cato gets kicked out of the game, five minutes after Peeta's shoving match, for hitting a player from behind. He leaves the rink with rage, ripping his helmet off and throwing it against the concrete walls that lead to the dressing room.

Peeta gets the puck a few more times, but he doesn't force a shot. I kind of admire him for that. If the opportunity isn't there, then don't force it. Instead, he makes smart plays, passing the puck around to tire out Eleven's players.

Gale hovers further back like defensemen should, and when Peeta makes a pass to him, the path is clear all the way to the goalie. I watch Gale wind up, his stick pulling back behind him and he takes a powerful slapshot, sending the puck whizzing through the air and into the top left corner.

Peeta skates over and hugs him like all the hockey guys do.

With a two goal lead, the boys don't press for more goals. They play smart and safe, watching their passes and high sticks.

And as if the fifteen minutes pass by in the blink of eye, the buzzer goes and that's game.

Madge squeals and cheers loudly. "That was amazing!"

I nod, smiling, as we make our way down the stands. When we reach the lobby, that's crowded with kids and parents and a lot of angry Eleven fans, Madge gives me a funny look when I start moving to the side.

"Aren't we going?"

I look down and bite my lip. "Um-"

"Oh my God! You're waiting for him!" She grabs my arm and pulls me out the doors, where the wind is cold and stings my skin and rips through my hoodie. "So, spill!"

"He asked me to go to Winter Formal with him," I blurt out, keeping my eyes focused on the parking lot behind her. But I can see her smile stretch so wide and she makes a noise that's between a squeak and cry, being muffled by her saying _awwwwwwwwe._

"Katniss, that's so cute! You said yes, right? Gale asked me yesterday to go with him! We can all go together and get a limo and-"

"I haven't given him an answer yet," I say, deciding to leave our deal out of it.

"_What?_"

I roll my eyes and wrap my arms around my body. "I will give him an answer when I see him."

"Okay. Well, I'll wait with you. Seeing as I'm your ride and Gale said he wanted to see me after."

We go back inside, standing off to the side in the lobby. I run a hand through my hair as we wait. Well, I wait, and Madge is on lookout. After about ten minutes, I hear her squeal and when I look up, I see Peeta walking through the lobby with his hockey bag slung over his broad shoulders and his stick in his other hand.

"There he is!"

Peeta's being congratulated and slapped on the back by people he probably doesn't know, when he looks up and spots me. And he smiles bashfully, coming over in a few strides.

"Awesome game, Peeta!" Madge says excitedly.

"Thank you for coming," he tells, though his eyes flicker to me.

Madge smiles knowingly, then she excuses herself to go find Gale. And I look up at Peeta, with his wet hair hanging down over his forehead and his bright red cheeks.

"You didn't score," I say.

"You stayed," he replies.

"Well, I have to give you an answer to your question," I say, biting my cheek. I want to smile because he looks really cute when he's nervous. "And I know we made a deal...but, I'd still like to be your date."

And the smile that lights up Peeta's face is one that I will never forget.

* * *

><p>I stare at myself in the mirror.<p>

The dark green dress, no straps, hugs my top half perfectly, then it falls over my bottom half, cascading my legs like a waterfall of green. It's not poofy or frilly or lacy. It's simple and elegant and nice.

My hair falls over my left shoulder in soft curls that Prim styled.

"Kat, you look gorgeous."

Prim stands behind me and I meet her eyes in the mirror. She opens her mouth to say something, but then the doorbell rings and my stomach is sent into a fury of knots. Her eyes light up and she bolts down the hall to the front door.

I don't bother chasing after her because...me and running and heels don't exactly get along.

Taking a deep breath, I leave my room and walk down the hall, my heels _clacking _against the hardwood floors. I round the corner, and I'm not exaggerating when I say the air left my lungs.

Because Peeta's standing there. Black suit, black shirt, and a dark green tie to match my dress. His hair is pushed off his forehead to the left and he looks so gorgeous with his smile and hair and tie.

I hear Prim giggle when Peeta and I continue to stare at each other.

And Peeta's decides to be the one to break our silence.

He seems to be good at that.

"I don't have words right now," he says, rubbing his neck. "Maybe give me a few days to figure out how to describe how beautiful you look."

My mother comes in, sighing happily. "Can I get a few pictures?"

All I can do is nod. And I go over to Peeta, and he smiles down at me. His hand gently, and a little hesitantly, rests on my lower back. I sling my arm across his back and I lean into him a bit, letting my other hand come to rest on his stomach.

After the third picture, I sigh impatiently, letting my smile drop. "Mom, are you done?"

I mean, she rarely acts like this- _like_ _a_ _mother._ And it's annoying and odd that she has decided to become one now. Maybe this mother act will appear again when I graduate. I'm not betting on it though. She probably wants to make a good impression for Peeta.

"Okay, I'm done," she says, turning off the camera. Prim still snaps a few more pictures on her phone, and I smile for her, because it's Prim and I can't deny her anything.

"Have fun!" Prim calls out when she dismisses us, labelling our photos as successful.

I grab a jacket to throw over my shoulders and we hurry out the door. Peeta's hand hovers over the small of my back, ready to steady me if I slip. I hold back a smile because I find it endearing.

His truck is still warm when we climb in. Once he starts the engine up and blasts the heat, he reaches behind to the backseat, then pulls out a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers I've seen.

"For you," he says gently.

And I take the beautiful assortment in my hands and stare down at them. "Peeta..."

"I didn't think you were a corsage kinda girl, so I opted not to get you one. I had a feeling you might rip it off halfway through the night."

A laugh bubbles out of me. "That feeling was very right. Thank you for the flowers, Peeta. They're lovely."

Peeta begins driving and he smiles, more to himself. And I smile, more to myself, when I look out the window and thank God that I said yes.

* * *

><p>"You really do look beautiful, Katniss," Peeta says once we walk through the gym doors.<p>

"Thank you." I should compliment him, too. Because he looks nice- more than nice, actually. "You look handsome."

"Handsome to get one last picture with?" He nods to the photo area, with a snowy backdrop and a photographer waiting. I roll my eyes, but he knows I'm kidding and his face breaks out into a smile.

We pose like how we did for my mother, and that's when the whispers start. I hear a few of the basketball guys make comments to their friends about how I chose a _hockey guy over them_. A lot of girls stare at me with envy and hate.

"What do you say to a dance?" Peeta asks as we leave the backdrop and venture further in the gym. Either he doesn't hear the whispers, or he's ignoring them. We pass the refreshments and Peeta looks at me. "Don't worry, you can step on my feet all you want."

"How about we wait for a slower song? I don't do pop songs," I say, biting my lip. And slow dancing with Peeta isn't something I want to miss. His eyes still look so bright under the flashing lights.

"Sure." He grins a little, and as if the DJ was listening from all the way across the room, a slow song starts playing.

Peeta looks at me shyly and I'm sure I'm mirroring his look. He looks like some form of royalty, standing there in his suit with the glow of a prince. And I'd like to be his princess, as ridiculous as it sounds. Thankfully, I won't say it out loud.

He holds out his hand, and gingerly I place my own hand in it.

It takes us into the chorus when we finally move onto the designated dance floor area. My other hand reaches up, resting on the smooth material of his suit jacket that covers his shoulder. His hand slides down to cradle my back.

And I feel it. I swear. The heat between us, especially when I look into those bright blue eyes of his.

_...if I had only felt the warmth within your touch__  
><em>_If I had only seen how you smile when you blush__  
><em>_Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough__  
><em>_Well I would have known__  
><em>_What I was living for all along__  
><em>_What I've been living for..._

"Peeta," I whisper.

And I'm scared. Very scared when he looks at me the way he is.

He leans, cautiously at first, and when I don't shy away, he goes for it. He kisses me and I kiss him back. His hand forgets about mine, dropping it and instead I feel it cup my cheek. His hands are smooth like I noticed. His lips are smooth.

When he begins pulling away, he tugs at my bottom lip a little and I know I won't ever be kissed like this again. Nothing will live up to this kiss.

I bite my lip, the one he tugged on, and I breath out, laughing a little. Because, damn, Peeta Mellark's lips.

"Was that the spark?" I ask, glancing up.

He doesn't smile. His eyes are serious with desire.

"No, Katniss," he says breathlessly. "That was an inferno."

* * *

><p><em>June<em>

"I have a question."

He stands in front of me, his back facing me. I let my eyes trail over the muscles that are taut under his orange t-shirt. I also sneak a look at the way his Adidas slim track pants are filled out by his butt.

Peeta knows I like to look at his butt. And he teases me all the time.

"Ask away," I say, preparing myself for whatever question he may ask.

He remains standing there with his back to me, his hands shoved in his pockets. "Do you love me?"

Okay, I wasn't expecting that. Oddly enough, my stomach has flutters and I smile a little. Because this is Peeta's way of saying that he loves me. And, call me crazy, but I think I love him, too. Who wouldn't? Nothing has ever been the same since Winter Formal.

"I'll count to ten in my head. At ten, I'll turn around, and if you're still here, then I'll have my answer." I stifle a giggle. "Here we go. _One...two..._"

He counts to ten and I remain in my spot. But he doesn't turn around.

"Aren't you going to turn around?"

At the sound of my voice, Peeta turns so quick and his face is shocked, yet happy and he laughs warmly, shaking his head.

"You're going to be the death of me," he says, coming over and pulling me up. His arms encircle my waist, his lips meet mine, and my heart beats just a little stronger. "So, you love me?"

"Obviously."

* * *

><p><em>Five years later<em>

Nothing changes. Not the town you grew up making memories in. Not the person you fall in love with.

District Twelve is always going to be like home. And it feels like I've never left. As I watch Prim walk across the stage to receive her diploma, it seems like just the other day I was walking across the same stage to get my own diploma.

One of the big differences is that Peeta isn't here.

But I'm hoping he will be. Soon.

He only had one more final exam. Shouldn't he be here by now? I know it's a long drive, but if he left early this morning like he said he was, then he would be here. What if he got into an accident?

I try not to think like that.

My mind is constantly on Peeta throughout the whole ceremony. Though I do take notice when it is announced that Prim has received an entry scholarship for U of Panem. I knew she would get a scholarship.

When the ceremony ends, my mother and I weave through the crowd until we find Prim chatting with the Hawthornes. Madge is all but glued to Gale's side and she hugs me tightly.

"I've missed you, Katniss! It's been too long since we saw-"

"Madge, it's been a month since you last visited."

"That's long!"

I roll my eyes playfully, then I turn to Prim and hug her. "So proud of you, Prim. Love you, Duck."

"Thanks, Kat," she says with a bright smile. "Where's Peeta?"

I frown. "He left this morning...I thought he'd be here by now."

My eyes scan the heads of the crown, looking for those blonde waves, but I don't find them. But I try not to dwell too much on it; it's Prim's day. I'm not going to ruin it by worrying about Peeta when he's probably fine.

"Me and Rory are going to get pictures taken at the park by the photographer. I'll meet you guys at home, okay?"

I nod and tell Prim we'll be waiting for her at home, but not too rush because we can wait. I want her to have fun today and do things for herself. If she wants to spend the rest of her afternoon with Rory and friends, then I'm fine with that. As long as her graduation was as spectacular as mine.

"Catnip," Gale says. "When Peeta gets here, why don't you two stop by? We'll catch up. Sound good?"

"Yeah, definitely, Gale. Actually, tell my mother I'll meet her at home. I'm gonna walk back and try to call Peeta."

I wave everyone goodbye and worm my way through the clusters of people. When I finally make it outside, my feet take my up the streets and to the familiar path that I haven't walked up since Graduation day.

That day was me, Peeta and a blanket. That was also the night where I let Peeta see all of me. It was a night of firsts spent beneath the stars and I knew. I knew that he was the one.

When I reach the top of the hill, overstepping the weeds and wildflowers that flood the path, I almost drop my phone. I stand there, frozen and unable to speak. In a light green button up and khaki shorts, there he is. Smiling at me.

_Smiling at me_. After I've been worrying!

"Peeta!" I shout, still not moving towards him.

"Took you long enough to get here," he says simply, that annoyingly hot smirk on his face.

I scowl. "I thought something was wrong!"

"Take a deep breath and calm down," he tells me, his smirk turning into a shy grin. "I have a question. One final question."

My scowl deepens as I step over the weeds. Peeta and his questions. I swear to God if it's stupid or sarcastic, I'll punch him. "What is it?"

Peeta gets down on one knee.

He reaches into his pocket and reveals a tiny box that holds the most beautiful ring I've ever seen.

"Will you marry me?"

Goosebumps rise and my lungs struggle to take in air while I blink quickly to keep tears from spilling. He's looking up at me, so hopeful and happy. Because he knows.

He knows I'll say yes.

Who knew a simple question five years ago would lead to this?

This hill...is where it all started.

This hill is where I fell in love with Peeta Mellark.

And I'm so happy this is the way we are and how we became.

A smile spreads across my face and I crouch in front of him, resting my forehead against his.

"Obviously."


End file.
